An ode to the places that inspired me as I wrote my book
Do you dream about where you’ll work on a project just as much as how you’ll bring the project to life? What if I told you that I thought more about where I would write my book than how I would approach the writing itself?
Before I even started writing my book, I had a clear vision of where I would bring it to life: I wanted to write in places that inspired me, and I wanted my writing time to feel sacred. I didn’t want it to feel like work. I wanted it to feel like I was connecting with myself. I also knew that if I thoroughly loved the environments where I was writing, that energy would show up on the page. As long as I felt good, I knew myself well enough to know that the rest would take care of itself. And it did.
It started in small ways.
I’d take myself to cozy coffee shops I loved and swanky hotel lobbies that had my favorite vibe (dark, moody, classic). I treated each one like a date with myself. I got dressed up, usually ordered a meal (or a few, depending on how long I was there), and wrote until I didn’t have any words left in me. If you had run into me at one of these places during a writing session, I can promise you would have found me with a smile on my face. Writing felt magical because of the settings I chose to do it in.
Another place I loved to write in was my home office. When I designed it, I did it with writing my future books in mind. I wanted a space that captured some of the elements of the hotel lobbies I love. My office is painted dark brown, with lots of windows, moody lights, and bookshelves lining the walls.
If I wasn’t writing inside, you could find me out by my pool in a bathing suit in the warmer months or bundled in a sweater by my fire pit in the cooler ones. Sometimes I’d write outside all day and into the evening. I loved feeling the sunshine on my face, and being outside helped me feel more connected to myself and the world around me.
I would switch between these places as my inspiration ebbed and flowed. I’d go through times where I only wanted to write at coffee shops or hotels, only outside, or only in my office. That’s how I wrote at least half of my book.
But from the beginning, I also had a clear vision for spending extended time in a place that felt extra inspiring.
I imagined that at some point in my writing journey, I would go away somewhere for a couple weeks and have a writing vacation. At the time, I didn’t know where that place would be or even if it would even be in the US, so I started saving. What I did know is that I wanted to stay in a place where I had the option to write in the privacy of my own room, or in a bustling hotel lobby, or in the outdoors. I also wanted to stay at a property that had a restaurant where I could have all my meals in case I didn’t want to leave at all.
To help me choose the best place, I started doing little experiments.
I stayed in different hotels as I traveled for speeches, paying attention to which ones inspired me most. I loved a lot of them, but I couldn’t imagine staying in any of them for more than a night or two.
Then, I started trying different places near my home in Houston.
I stayed at a historic hotel, The Lancaster, right in the heart of the Theater District with incredible charm. I went there on two separate occasions for a night or two at a time and really loved it. The hotel rooms have unique names like the “Artist Suite” or “The Producer.” That kind of thing made a difference to me because it made me feel creative. There’s even a history of famous artists and performers frequenting that hotel, and I loved feeling connected to that. The Lancaster made it on my shortlist for where I might go for my big writing vacation.
And then, I stayed at another hotel in Houston, Hotel Saint Augustine, which was about a mile from my house. I only stayed one night there, but it left a big impression on me. The hotel lobby was dark and moody just like I like it, and it felt like a hidden gem. When I got home from my stay there, I had one of the most productive writing days I’d had up to that point. There was something about the ambiance that really inspired me, and because of that, Hotel Saint Augustine also made my shortlist.
Eventually, the time came to pick a spot.
I’d blocked two weeks on my calendar and set an ambitious goal to write a draft of half of the manuscript in that time.
I thought about staying at one of the Houston hotels, but I also felt an internal pressure to choose somewhere outside of my own city. If this was going to be a true writing vacation, shouldn’t it be somewhere far away?
I looked at rentals in Big Sur, hotels on the Oregon Coast, and several spots in Costa Rica—a place that I’ve heard is magical for so many. I contacted the properties, told them what I was there to do, and asked if they had reliable WiFi and whether they could give me any kind of special rate. Nearly every one went above and beyond and said they would be honored if I chose their property as a place to write my book.
Just a couple days before my two weeks off, I still hadn’t made a decision. I was really struggling. I didn’t know which place to choose because they all sounded great. Did I want to go to a place I knew that was close by? Or did I want something different and far away?
In the end, I decided to stay in Houston. That way, in case I had a change of heart about being gone for so long (and you know from reading my post a few weeks ago that I did), I wouldn't be too far from home. I’d also have more flexibility to do what I needed in the moment.
My heart really wanted Hotel Saint Augustine, but it was the more expensive of the two properties in Houston. I debated between doing one week at The Lancaster and one week at Hotel Saint Augustine, but something still didn’t feel right. And then I learned the history of the name of Hotel Saint Augustine. It’s named for a patron saint, Augustine of Hippo, whose writings had a profound impact on philosophy, theology, and literature. That’s when I knew that Hotel Saint Augustine was where I was meant to stay.
The day before my two-week vacation was supposed to start, I still didn’t have a reservation. The only thing preventing me from booking it was the cost. It would be expensive to stay there for two weeks, and I wanted a room that had a terrace so that I could write outside, which would make it even pricier.
Something in my gut told me to call the hotel. It was the only one where I hadn’t asked for a deal because it operates under a major hotel chain umbrella, and I assumed there wouldn’t be much flexibility.
The front desk manager, Dierick, happened to answer. I explained the situation, and as we chatted, I mentioned that I went to the University of Florida and used to live in Gainesville. Well, guess what? Dierick used to live there, too! He went to another school in Gainesville. He told me he’d be elated to have a fellow Gator stay at his hotel and write her book. He worked out a special deal that made the hotel stay possible for me and even gave me flexibility so that if I decided to come home early, I wouldn’t be charged for the extra nights.
Next thing I knew, me and my three huge suitcases were all packed and ready to go to Hotel Saint Augustine. When I got there, there was a note from Dierick in my room wishing me luck on the book and making sure I knew that his team was there for me if I needed anything at all. (He said they could even swap my writing desk or chair if they weren’t comfortable for me.)
Over the next two weeks, the only time I left the property was to walk home, give my bonus daughter a hug, and make an iced coffee because I missed mine from home. The only time I saw my husband, Spiros, was when he drove by the hotel one night to give me a kiss. Aside from that, it was me, my three suitcases, and my thoughts.
Some nights, I got dressed up and wrote in the hotel lobby. During the day, I alternated between writing in the lobby, out by the pool in a bathing suit, or in my hotel room, where I often sat on the terrace in my pajamas. Most nights, I shut the hotel lobby down. Once the hotel staff got to know me, they let me stay in the lobby after they left. I ate in the restaurants on the property and ordered Uber Eats when I needed to change it up. I went on daily walks to clear my head and strolled the grounds of a museum next door when I needed a brain break.
It was magical. And it wasn’t just the property, it was the people. Eventually, everyone who worked there knew me by name. Every time I ran into anyone—a server, the person working at the front desk, the housekeeper, Dierick—they’d ask me how many words I had left to go. They knew my food order without me even having to ask. While I stayed there, I got our final book cover options from our artist, and I polled everyone on the hotel staff. They played a huge role in helping me make the final decision. I felt so at home there that I extended my reservation by a few days (though I ended up leaving after 13 nights because I wanted my own bed). When I finished the book months later, I came back to Hotel Saint Augustine to celebrate, and they had a section reserved for me and my friends in the lobby with a bottle of champagne waiting. The chair they saved for me to sit in was the chair I wrote in the most. They paid attention to every detail.
Hotel Saint Augustine became my home, and their staff became my friends. It was everything I could have wanted for my writing vacation, and I did write half the book there. Some of my most favorite parts of the book came from those couple weeks, and I can tell you exactly where I was sitting as I wrote them.
Writing this book changed how I see my work.
It helped me see that where we are and how we feel while we do our work might matter more than the work itself. Or maybe that is the work—to find the environments that light you up and to follow your inspiration and allow it to lead you.
These days, I can’t drive by Hotel Saint Augustine or any of the hotels and coffee shops I wrote in without the biggest smile on my face. When I walk by my home office or sit outside by my pool, I think about the times I wrote there, too. Each one holds such a special place in my heart.
I’m not saying that we need to take elaborate vacations to get work done. My nearly two-week hotel stay is not the norm for me, and it was something I had to plan and save for. But what I am saying is that we ought to think about the places where we do our best work and give ourselves permission to be in spaces that light us up.
What do you think? What does this post bring up for you? What ideas has it sparked for you and your own work? Hit “reply” and tell me all about it. I love reading your responses!
I can’t believe we are three weeks away from publication day. How is this real?! If you haven’t snagged your copy yet, you can pre-order here.
Big hugs,
